


mamoru to yuuta

by ImberNox



Category: Messiah Project - All Media Types
Genre: Ichijima Haruumi - Freeform, Kaidou Eiri - Freeform, M/M, Mamiya Seiren - Freeform, Mitsumi Haku - Freeform, mentions of - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 11:25:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12910932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImberNox/pseuds/ImberNox
Summary: Takano worked on the exact opposite side of Tokyo from his workplace, and Shirasaki had always wondered why the other simply did not move for the convenience of it. Shirasaki also wondered why he had yet to find the courage to sit down beside Takano. There were only four stops left, anyways : four more lights above the train’s doors to blink on. And, then, Shirasaki would have lost his chance.Post-Shinku : deviates from canon





	mamoru to yuuta

**Author's Note:**

> So, I still have yet to watch the entirety of Shinku because I can't find it anywhere online, and it costs $56 on jp.amazon. So, I honestly have no idea what happens to Takano because he definitely was not in Polar Night (and he's honestly the person I would have expected Mamoru to go to after leaving the Church). But, this is based on a mixture of Shibi, Eisei, Hagane, and the scene where Persia/Siam have Takano blindfolded and the following roof scene in Shinku.
> 
> I wrote this at midnight on a Sunday night/Monday morning ; I apologize for grammatical errors.

It had not been what Shirasaki had originally expected following the mission. With Yuuri in their room and Ariga and Kagami throughout other missions and training, there was good community in Maru. Ichijima had returned, and there was a new atmosphere : one of accountability and responsibility that pervaded each of the four. It seemed less that they were learning and more that they were practicing ; they had taken that final step from being the kouhai of Sakura and into being full-fledged cadets of Sakura. Everything was settling into fluidity. Even between Ariga and Kagami, bonds were being silently, calmly, and naturally fortified. It was relieving to see Kagami begin to open himself and accept the kindness that Ariga offered him so gently and so patiently. It was tangible : their connection. They did not share with each other their every story, but there was assurance in their movements with one another ; they were on the same wavelength : shared frequencies. That had reached that point where they stopped speaking because they simply knew. And between Shirasaki and Yuuri, there was a new level to their connection. It started with a small absence of Shirasaki from his usual duty of fussing over Yuuri ; Yuuri had a small absence from leaning on Shirasaki. They were branching out as they became closer : a sudden realization that they could stand together as a pair rather than as one because they had finally seemed to realize that it was safe for them to do as such. It might have been Quantum Cat’s bomb that had begun it, or it could have been some culmination of everything they had experienced since Mamiya’s death.

            The truth was evident that everything was well in Maru for one of the few times in a long record of deceit and suspicion. Everyone was, finally, moving on. And that was where Shirasaki’s expectations deviated from actuality. He expected that he would feel content with the success of the mission and the wellness of the messiah pairs. It was certainly the emotion that Ariga, Kagami, and Yuuri were experiencing through the ease in their interactions and the friendship between them. Shirasaki was left excluded in that euphoria ; he still felt lost.

            Often, in the night, he woke from where he slept in his bed – he had begun sleeping in his own bed apart from Yuuri as their comfort increased and distance became less of a concern – to simply stare into the darkness of their room and look for someone. During training, he sometimes felt tired in Yuuri’s movements and yearned to exchange a flurry of motion and build some choreography with another. He knew who he continued to think of, but he attempted greatly to throw himself into Maru deeply enough so that the black ink of their uniforms and their erased identities would somehow seep into his head and chest and cover that emotion so that he could no longer recognize it. He gave Maru too much credit ; his emotions were strong enough and deep enough that Maru could not reach it.

            Yuuri seemed to be picking up on this discontent that he felt ; on some, rare nights, Yuuri would wake in the bed across from him, and Shirasaki could hear his breathing quicken into wakening as the other simply listened to Shirasaki’s own wakefulness. Yuuri never went to speak during those nights, and Shirasaki could not tell if he was grateful for or concerned about that silence. Yuuri had a long history with denial and, also, a long history with jealousy ; Shirasaki worried that Yuuri already knew what lingered around his thoughts. Ariga had noticed as well. Shirasaki had not been surprised when Ariga had approached him with careful questions and his serious manner that translated well into concern ; they had been messiahs, and they had worked well together. There had been misunderstandings – small inconsistencies – but they had understood each other and had gained a level of emotional intimacy with one another. Occasionally, Shirasaki wished that he and Ariga had stayed messiahs ; they would have been outstanding partners to each other. And he was envious of Kagami for receiving all of Ariga’s careful attention and being the epicenter of Ariga’s strength. Shirasaki wondered what it would be like to be the source of another’s strength. Yuuri did not draw strength from him ; Yuuri seemed to draw his strength from a worrisome mixture of pride, doubt, and unrealistic perceptions. Ariga had strength before Shirasaki had been partnered to him : before Kagami had been partnered to him. But, that strength had softened into something approachable and respectable beyond simple awe when Ariga had been introduced to the whirlwind that had been Kagami before the new cadet had quieted into another cog in Sakura’s machine. Between Mistumi and Kaidou, they clearly valued each other above all else ; Shirasaki still had yet to understand the depth of their partnership. Too many looks were shared between them that spoke of years upon years of experience and of nights closely shared and of intimate, appraising emotion that likely frothed in their chests like the foam of a coffee.

            And Shirasaki went through the motions of training almost hollow ; none of Mitsumi and Kaidou’s froth was in his chest. He was constantly glancing away into the corners of the room and to the doorways of the exits, expecting and not expecting to see someone there that he recognized and that seemed to make his body suddenly work.

            There was the expectation that was not met. And, further, Shirasaki broke his own resolution that he had made upon his very entering into Maru. He was now on the train travelling through the districts of Tokyo, and he could see Takano sitting at the opposite end of the car, reading through some book as they passed through the stops. Shirasaki knew that Takano was going home after work ; Takano worked on the exact opposite side of Tokyo from his workplace, and Shirasaki had always wondered why the other simply did not move for the convenience of it. Shirasaki also wondered why he had yet to find the courage to sit down beside Takano. There were only four stops left, anyways : four more lights above the train’s doors to blink on. And, then, Shirasaki would have lost his chance.

            The next stop came, and there were three lights left to shine yellow. Shirasaki breathed in deeply and took his steps forward, hearing the soft weight of his feet on the floor as he passed the empty seats of the train. Being the second-to-last stop, Takano’s ride home nearly always ended without company. Even now, there were only three other people in that car of the train : an old lady humming to herself, a businessman with his eyes closed, and a teenage girl flicking through her phone calmly.

            Shirasaki took the seat directly next to Takano, and he felt Takano tense with suspicion at having a stranger sit directly beside him when so many other seats were empty. But then, there was a stiffness to his body that had jolted from wariness. Shirasaki refused to look at the other and stared forwards, watching Tokyo rush past the windows. Then, startling Shirasaki, there was a hand that was placed tentatively on his own, resting on his left knee. Suddenly, Shirasaki felt that he could not breathe, and he coughed a little bit from how choked up with such emotion in his throat and chest. It was fear, it was elation, and it was exhilaration. With hesitated calculation and without breathing, he turned over his hand so that the palm faced upwards ; Takano cautiously laced their fingers. Their hands clutched each other, then, with shocking strength. Shirasaki felt himself wanting to gasp from it.

            They sat like that for the next two stops. At Takano’s stop, Takano rose from his seat, still holding onto Shirasaki’s hand. He did not let go, nor relinquish the strength of his grasp. Shirasaki rose from his seat, too, and let himself be led from the train and onto the platform. It was spring, and Tokyo’s sky was still light at the hour. They walked down the streets, passing several side streets and passing the abundance of potted plants outside of apartment buildings and small store fronts. They did not share any words. They did not dare to. It was as if the whole of their interactions was some illusion and some desperate desire that they had wished into delusion : that any words that they shared would cause the moment to vanish. Sakura would find them ; Takano’s colleagues would find them. But, they made it to Takano’s apartment building without any hint of being watched or followed. They entered the front door, took the stairs up, and entered through the door to Takano’s apartment. The door was closed and locked.

            They stood there in the small entryway silently : not looking at one another. Shirasaki found himself making the first movement. He turned his body to face Takano’s, walked in front of Takano, and, without casting glance at Takano’s expression, leaned forward and kissed the other softly. It was meant to be short and just long enough to convey some of Shirasaki’s regret and emptiness, but Takano’s hands rose to hold his face ; the kiss lasted long in its chasteness. When they stopped kissing, they still did not look at one another. It was as if they could not.

            Takano slipped off his shoes and forewent the apartment slippers. Shirasaki followed suit. Shirasaki was led by Takano’s tugging hands, which were starting to sweat, into Takano’s bedroom. There, they kissed again : still chaste. They slowly made to undress one another. Shirasaki’s fingers felt numb as they fumbled with each button down Takano’s jacket, eventually managing to slip it from Takano’s shoulders, and it fell to the floor in a heap. The tie was removed then, followed by the belt. Takano’s hands had tugged Shirasaki’s own jacket off and had similarly removed Shirasaki’s belt ; he was in the process of unbuttoning Shirasaki’s shirt. Shirasaki then went to unbutton Takano’s shirt, still fumbling, and his hands began to shake when he reached the button of Takano’s pants. Takano had already unzipped him and was tugging his pants off, but Shirasaki hesitated. The gravity of the moment was choking him. Instead, he stepped out from his pants and led them both a step closer to Takano’s bed. His hands finally found the courage to tease the button from the hole and lower the zipper. He pulled down, and Takano stepped out from them.

            They still wore their boxers, but there was sudden relief that flooded them ; the weight of their occupations and their responsibilities had vanished, leaving behind only them, their heavy emotions, and the words that their tied tongues could barely articulate. Takano took Shirasaki’s hips in his hands and walked them, slowly and carefully, backwards towards the bed. Takano sat down on it, and Shirasaki clambered to kneel on the mattress, straddling Takano’s legs. They leaned back to lay on one another, and they initiated their third kiss. Hands did not wander ; Takano’s remained on Shirasaki’s waist while Shirasaki’s gently cradled Takano’s head and held himself up. They broke and, still refusing to properly even glance at one another, moved up on the bed towards the pillows. Takano yanked the comforter free from underneath the pillows, and they pulled the comforter then to pool around their hips. They kissed for their fourth time, but it was much shorter.

            Somehow, being in bed together, having each other’s skin bared to the air, having the last barrier of their boxers present, and having the comforter just slightly covering them were altogether enough comfort for them to finally recognize exactly where they were and what they were doing. They broke away and, with deep breaths of anxiety, looked at one another.

            “Takano,” Shirasaki breathed ; he moved his hand to be positioned on Takano’s knee. The tangibility of the situation reassured him greatly, but he still felt out of breath. What they were doing was so against the rules of Maru, so against Takano’s contract, and so horribly treacherous to the both of them.

            Takano, ever resilient and in control of himself, managed to smile. His hand came up to rest on Shirasaki’s shoulder, give it a squeeze, and drop back. “Shirasaki.” Shirasaki went to kiss him again, but Takano’s hands pushed him back at the shoulders. “Wait,” Takano asked of him.

            “What is it?” Shirasaki asked, nearly begged to know.

            “More than anything, I wanted to talk.”

            Shirasaki wanted to smile and to melt. It was such a response that was so expected of Takano ; Takano always wanted to talk to him : always wanted to listen to him. But where the predictability of Yuuri’s movements did little to fulfill his emotional needs, Takano’s filled them warmly without any prompt or pressure. “Yeah,” Shirasaki agreed. “I did too.”

            “I,” Takano choked a little on his words ; the emotion was catching both of them in uncharted territory, “was so…” he struggled for the words, “when you left, I-” He huffed and smiled sadly. “I had no idea where you were or what had happened. You just weren’t there, suddenly. I didn’t know how to react or where even to look. I hoped that you had something to do, and I feared the worst.”

            Shirasaki swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he told him. “When Maru recruited me, I didn’t have a choice. I had to join in order to hide from the mistakes I made as a part of the fourth division. I had Yuuri with me, and I thought that Maru would be the place where Yuuri and I could just be.”

            “You think of Yuuri a lot,” Takano commented.

            It was not full of jealousy or malice. It was quiet bemusement, soft commentary that had no true emotion behind it. Perhaps Takano looked a little wistful, a bit distanced. Perhaps Shirasaki had no way to defend himself from such a comment, for it was entirely true and entirely not the reason why he was there.

            “I…” Shirasaki hesitated ; he could not tear his eyes from Takano’s. “I do,” he confessed. “Too much, I think.”

            “You think?” Takano was smiling, back to teasing and joking.

            Shirasaki smiled and shook his head. “Yuuri’s not the only person I think about,” he said, then, and Takano’s smile vanished. “I’m thinking a lot, lately, not about Yuuri. I, I can’t stop thinking about us : how it used to be, how it now is.”

            “Is that your pick-up line?”

            Shirasaki laughed. “I miss us as a team in the fourth division. I went into Maru selfishly and selflessly ; I couldn’t think past Yuuri and myself. But, I’m starting to wonder if that was a mistake. I could have trusted you and the fourth division a lot more to get me out of that situation and to let me continue working.”

            “It wasn’t you,” Takano immediately declared. “You got caught in the middle of a lot of things happening at once. I don’t blame you. I’m just really, really happy that you’re alive and that I know that you’re well. That’s enough for me.”

            Shirasaki nodded absently. “Yuuri,” he hesitated, unsure of how to continue, “looks for me constantly. It’s what he’s done throughout our entire lives. I don’t think I’ve ever instantly looked to someone ; it’s not really what I do. But,” he sighed, “I think that, more and more, I’m feeling…unhappy.” He glanced up from where he was staring at the comforter and saw Takano watching him, listening but confused. “The system of Maru is that an individual always has his messiah,” Shirasaki explained. “Your messiah is a lot of things. He’s your partner, your instructor, your student, your friend, and your lover.” Takano nodded. “And Yuuri is a lot of those things to me ; we work together well, he looks to me, I can depend on his flawless work with computers, and he’s my best friend. But we fall short of lovers.”

            “I’m your back-up?”

            “No,” Shirasaki instantly disagreed, his voice loud enough to be called a shout. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. “No,” he repeated. “We’ve known each other our whole lives, and I think he’s looking to go to that final step with me.” Shirasaki shifted. “I’m just…I don’t want to. I don’t think that way about him. I don’t…I’m sure I could try and that I could with him, but I wouldn’t be happy. I don’t see him as that. Especially not when you’re constantly there.”

            Takano seemed conflicted. “It’s one-sided?”

            “Yes.”

            “Does he know?”

            “I think so. He catches me sometimes when I’m not paying attention or when I’m not sleeping.”

            “How does he feel?”

            “I don’t know.”

            Takano sighed. “Are you worried enough about him that you don’t want to do this?”

            “What is this?” Shirasaki asked. He felt himself beginning to shake. “I’m spending every day at Maru working as a cog in some machine that is perfectly content to replace its cadets as soon as one dies or defects. I’ve Yuuri to look after, and I’ve friends that I care for. But I can’t ignore the fact that you’re not at Maru and that I also need to be with you.”

            “Remember the first time we slept together?” Takano asked.

            Shirasaki blinked, feeling his entire train of thought derail. “What?”

            “You thought that we were going to get fired for sleeping with a coworker and that we violated some minute detail of our contract. You thought that from the very start, and you didn’t care.”

            Shirasaki blinked. “And?”

            “I don’t understand why you’re hesitating now.”

            Shirasaki found himself leaning forward. He took Takano’s face into his hands and kissed the other intensely, repeatedly licking along Takano’s lips until the other opened his mouth and allowed Shirasaki to slip his tongue in and flick at his teeth and at his tongue in a routine of familiarizing itself with something it had been deprived of for so long. They leaned back to lay down with Shirasaki above Takano, straddling him. Some time into their kiss, Shirasaki moved his hips down, and they rubbed against one another, prompting hitched breaths from both of them as the kiss grew desperate. Shirasaki pulled out of the kiss, still holding Takano’s face with one hand.

            “I’m not,” he told Takano. “I just thought you wanted to talk.”

            Takano smiled then, jubilantly. “I was just confused ; I had no idea what you were doing or where you had gone ; I didn’t know who you were with or how you were. It should have been enough for me that you were alive, but it wasn’t.” It went without Takano saying that he had needed Shirasaki. He had let that burning need take him onto that roof and call out to Shirasaki as the other walked away.

            “What did you want to tell me?” Shirasaki prompted, whispering. “You were faltering.”

            Takano laughed. “Don’t tell me you didn’t think I was going to tell you that I love you.”

            “Do you love me?”

            The silence following the question was uncomfortable beyond measure. All trace of jest was erased from the interaction, and they were both standing on the precipice of some great drop : increasingly leaning and leaning over the edge, and they came closer and closer to falling. The weight of gravity was tugging.

            “I’m not sure,” Takano replied safely. “But I like you. Is that enough?”

            Shirasaki let himself relax: grin. “Yeah.”

            They stopped talking, then. Languidly, they slipped back into heated kiss, tangling one another with their tongues and laughing whenever the noises loudened awkwardly. It took a while for them to brave bodily contact again, but it began with a brush of Takano’s hand over Shirasaki’s ribs, tickling him and forcing bubbling laughter from Shirasaki’s lips. Shirasaki had responded with a jab into Takano’s waist. They tussled underneath the comforter as such, laughing and giggling and guffawing as they teased and kissed each other.

            Shirasaki slipped his hand further below Takano’s waist and pressed with his palm against Takano, prompting a sharp intake of breath from Takano, which he choked on from the suddenness of the touch. Almost without a moment passed, Takano pushed his hips into Shirasaki’s hand, and their interactions fell further into sexual intimacy as their bodies began to sweat and Takano began to pant as Shirasaki worked him through the fabric of his boxers. In the midst of a particularly wet kiss, Shirasaki slipped his hand into Takano’s boxers ; Takano groaned into Shirasaki’s mouth. When Shirasaki pulled back for breath, Takano’s eyebrows were knitted together and his eyes were closed in deep concentration on the pleasure that Shirasaki was giving him.

            One of Takano’s hands slipped to wrap around Shirasaki’s wrist and stilled his movements. He tugged Shirasaki’s hand from out of his boxers and sat up. Shirasaki watched as Takano tugged off his boxers, tossing them to some ignorable corner of the bedroom as Takano turned to Shirasaki and pulled at his boxers, lips pecking at Shirasaki’s jawline.

            Shirasaki leaned back into the pillows and raised his hips for Takano to tug the boxers off of him and throw them likewise. Shirasaki let his legs fall open, and he felt his heart skip several beats in exhilarated anticipation when Takano slipped between them, tugging the comforter up to cover their hips from the cold of the air conditioned room. Takano refrained from pressing their hips close, instead opting to run the tips of his fingers over Shirasaki’s torso from his hips to his shoulders, occasionally digging in between ribs and delighting in the shouts and laughs that erupted from Shirasaki at every tickle. His fingertips then found the rise of Shirasaki’s nipples and began to roll them between the thumb and forefinger, between the knuckles of the middle and forefinger. It was a less intense reaction than the tickling or the soft grinding from before, but it allowed them to catch their breaths and make eye contact without feeling suddenly embarrassed.

            “How is it that I feel like you’ve been watching me ever since you went into Sakura, but I never noticed you?” Takano asked him, watching with an intensity that nearly frightened Shirasaki.

            “I was in disguise most of the time,” Shirasaki answered. “And I had to keep my distance. But, I wasn’t afraid to look for you.”          

            “I can’t tell if I’m upset or not that you never reached out to me.”           

            Shirasaki arched a bit into Takano’s touch, trying to distract him from the heaviness of the conversation that could wait until later. “I couldn’t.”

            Takano nodded, his hands withdrawing from Shirasaki’s chest. They remained idle. His face betrayed months of worry, of distress, of missing and wondering and fearing and hoping. “I’m glad you’re here,” was all that Takano said.

            “Takano,” Shirasaki tried to interrupt.

            Takano responded with a grin, suddenly playful as if a switch had been flicked. “Yuuta,” he insisted.

            Shirasaki felt his breath catch in his throat. They had slept together and engaged in intimate contact both as friends and as lovers, but there was a certain newness that came with Takano inviting him to use his name rather than him solely using it whenever his mind became foggy enough with pleasure to forget that it had never been offered. “Mamoru,” he answered quietly. It relieved him greatly to know that he could hear it spoken by someone’s voice who was not and did not sound like Yuuri. It was liberating.

            Takano returned to dragging his hands across Shirasaki’s torso, this time dragging downwards along the gravity of the lines of Shirasaki’s body. His hands grasped Shirasaki, and Shirasaki gasped harshly, turning his face into the pillow as his body tensed like the tightened strings of an instrument. The sensation intensified exponentially once Takano began to move his wrist, following a pattern that was not nearly enough. It was meant to tease rather than overly please, and Shirasaki grunted in frustration at Takano’s antics, trying to rut his hips into the other’s hand to quicken the pace ; Takano’s other hand came to hold Shirasaki’s hips down.

            “Yuuta,” Shirasaki complained, though he was aware that the strangled syllables sounded more pleasured than frustrated. His hands came down to foggily shove at the hand that was holding him down.

            Takano laughed and moved his hands away from Shirasaki entirely, prompting a glare. The glare soon dissipated as Shirasaki took in the sight that was Takano lazily stroking himself as his other hand fondled gently lower. It was meant to be a show for Shirasaki, to get him to be more than a little frustrated and more than a little demanding, but Shirasaki could not help but watch, enticed. After a short time, Shirasaki reached down and began to mirror Takano’s movements to himself. There was a shallow inhale from Takano at the motion, and Shirasaki found himself chuckling exasperatedly at their ridiculous play.

            They remained like that for some minutes ; Shirasaki always struggled to maintain a sense of time when with Takano, be it casually or intimately. The other had some way of erasing everything else from existence with his presence : all worry, fear, and upset. Shirasaki could be worrying over whether or not Yuuri would be fretting over his absence, if Ariga was suspicious of his leave, if Ichijima was currently preparing to have him arrested for this transgression of the fourth rule. But, instead, Shirasaki found himself unable to even remember those things. All he could see was Takano, all he could hear was Takano, and all he cared about was in front of him, on the bed, and enticing him in all the ways that allowed Shirasaki to be able to fully breathe. Whatever was in the corner or in the doorway was irrelevant because what he had been looking for was within arm’s reach and plenty attainable.

            Shirasaki reached and tugged Takano down on top of him, slotting their lips together and intertwining their tongues into a sloppy kiss. Their hands brushed one another and hit one another. Simultaneously, they made the unspoken decision to switch, and Shirasaki reveled in the heavy warmth of Takano in his hand as he moved up and down. Takano’s own tight grip had him panting and gasping.

            “Should I prep you or are we not doing that tonight?” Takano asked against his cheek in a moment of clarity.

            Shirasaki groaned at the suggestion of the prior option ; he would love to wrap his legs around Takano’s hips and cling to the other throughout the whole night, if desired. However, there was laziness and urgency in Shirasaki’s motives ; he wanted to reach the pinnacle of pleasure with Takano as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

            “Not now,” he managed between panting breaths. “Just, please,” he squeezed his hand around Takano, delighting in the moan and mutterings that followed.

            Takano began kissing at his neck, and Shirasaki craned to allow better access. He kept his eyes closed, but the feeling of Takano’s hand on him and Takano’s lips sucking and biting at his neck had bright stars dancing across his vision nevertheless. At some points of utter, mindless pleasure, Shirasaki did not know if his eyes were open or closed because everything was so bright.

            Lower, Takano trailed so that his tongue circled around Shirasaki’s nipple teasingly a few times before lapping at it, causing small, hot flickers to pool in Shirasaki’s stomach and lower, lower, lower. Takano barely spent any time there before trailing down to Shirasaki’s navel. The tickling sensation paired with the movements of Takano’s hand had Shirasaki noisily gasping and shouting wordless exclamations, trying to express the intensity that he felt. He slapped a hand over his mouth and the other arm over his forehead, clenching and unclenching into and from a fist.

            When Takano’s mouth went even lower, Shirasaki’s body convulsed from the sudden shift of the harsh friction into the soft heat of Takano’s tongue and mouth. Shirasaki strangled out a gasping, shouting moan at the change ; he slapped the hand covering his mouth down harder. His other hand reached downwards and grasped around senselessly until Shirasaki felt the softness of Takano’s hair and held on tightly, his hips jerking unsuccessfully further into Takano’s mouth as Takano’s hands held him wriggling and writhing onto the mattress.

            “Yuuta,” Shirasaki gasped, unable to think beyond the name. “Yuuta!”

            The world sharpened ; everything was suddenly bright, and he was there but gone. There was, for the seconds of his orgasm, nothing but the confusing froth of Takano, pleasure, and nothing at all.

            He came back in a freefall and landed somewhere on the bed, confused out of his mind and unable to render his motor skills or his speech skills into motion. He was boneless, nearly breathless there. He opened his eyes from whenever they had been closed – perhaps the entire time – and became aware of a faint trail of drool that had trickled down the side of his mouth and into a damp spot on the pillow.

            Gradually, he became aware of hands caressing his hips with gentle rubbing.

            “Yuuta?” his question floated into the air, and it sounded so distant.

            “Yeah,” Takano replied from somewhere : in front of him.

            It seemed to come into focus very barely ; it was first the fuzzy silhouette of Takano, colored in monochrome. Then, the further orgasm drew from Shirasaki, the clearer Takano’s features became. He was smiling gently, clearly endeared and affectionate, unable to remove his gaze from Shirasaki’s face. As bodiless as Shirasaki felt, he managed to smile back, his hands heavily reaching up to fumble to hold Takano’s jawline with gentle adoration. They stared at each other for a long time.

            “Yuuta?” Shirasaki then asked. “Did you want-?”

            “Nah,” Takano declined, his grin deepening from softness into childish fun. “I got off on listening to you.”

            Shirasaki laughed and beckoned that Takano come up to lay beside him ; the beckon was answered, and the weight of Takano’s form dipped the mattress so that Shirasaki was tilted towards him. Their legs slipped into a woven lace, and their arms embraced one another in a hold that had been familiar once and now was an echo of an old comfort intensified into some newer comfort with much more emotion and story behind it. It was fuller than before, and Shirasaki smiled at Takano hazily.

            “Mamoru?” Takano asked, and Shirasaki sighed happily at the sound of his name in the other’s voice. “I think I lied earlier.”

            “Yeah?”

            “I think I do know.”

            “Hm?”

            “If I love you.”

            “Ah.”

            They laughed at one another’s incoherency in their bliss and moved closer together, their eyelids and limbs heavy with encroaching sleep. They pecked each other gently on the lips before resting against one another : Shirasaki’s forehead rested against Takano’s chin, and Takano’s nose was tickled slightly by the strands of Shirasaki’s hair. Slowly, they drifted off. Shirasaki was, unequivocally, happy in that moment ; there was fullness to the circle that Maru failed to deliver literally upon : fullness that frothed in Shirasaki’s chest with emotion that was ecstatic and loving and adoring and so incredibly fulfilled. Their breathing deeper further, further. When they lost each other to sleep as the sky finally tinted black, they were promised waking up together.


End file.
